Carlyle crossed the tarmac of the naval yards, he stood out among the naval technicians who began to finish the defences. Wearing a cape, and uniform that blended into the snowy tundras of Hoth, Carlyle inspected it all. This had been his vision, his work and his sweat poured into the fortifications. He watched as an empire class frigate landed in the nearest maintainence pit. Already the base was finding itself under use.
"Ensign!" Carlyle called as he approached one of the staff on duty, "How goes the fortifying?"
The ensign, bundled up in a wampa pelt coat, and ear muffs watched the man "You alright sir, you don't seem to-" the ensign began.
"I want reports," Carlyle replied coldly , "Not petty pleasantries."
"Yessir." The ensign replied, "Well, we have incoming stormtroopers beginning to come in." the junior officer replied, "We're putting the final turbolasers, attatching them to the power grid. But largely we're on schedule."
"Good, good, I want round the clock reports ensign, the Alliance is gearing for war, and so should we." Carlyle quipped.